Enough is Enough
by Narijima
Summary: College is hard enough when you're human! How does a newly-changed werewolf cope with the challenge? Trista struggles to bring her two identities into one whole as she settles into a new city, a new role, and a new life.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Trista stood awkwardly near the baggage claim, watching the carousel carry various pieces of luggage around. She tapped her foot anxiously as she waited for her own bags to appear. When they finally came into sight - a pair of navy blue rolling suitcases with bright curly ribbon attached to handles - she let out a sigh of relief, having almost given up on ever seeing her bags. She stepped forward to nab the pair before they could disappear around the corner, staggering slightly at the weight. She had forgotten just how much she had packed.

_Well, I _am_ going away to college,_ she rationalized. _Who knows what I'll need. Besides, isn't Washington supposed to be cold? I'm sure I'll be glad I packed all these extra clothes soon enough._

Panting slightly she stepped away from the conveyor belt, gratefully setting the heavy bags on the ground. Yanking the handles to her bags upright she pulled the pair slowly around, looking around the area carefully. Tri-Cities Airport was small as far as Trista was concerned. She was used to the bustling mass of people that was the Kansas City International Airport. Being in an airport that _didn't_ feel like it was packed beyond capacity with people was a bit unnerving to the girl. She glanced around anxiously, taking in the half dozen or so people also collecting their luggage. _Yep, definitely weird,_ she thought.

Bags safely collected she turned around, eyes searching for any sign of her ride. She had no idea what she was looking for, but knew she would recognize the pair she was looking for when she saw them. Cautiously she sniffed the air, searching for any scent of another werewolf. When none became immediately apparent she sighed and started forward, eyes open and nose busy as she went.

She had not gone far when it hit her. She glanced about, sniffing frantically as she tried to pinpoint the source of the scent. After a brief moment's search – in which she nearly panicked, thinking she was imagining things – she located the werewolf she had scented mere moments before. Sighing in relief she headed toward the scent, toward a man and his daughter. At least, she hoped it was his daughter, because if she wasn't then she obviously had the wrong pair. She adjusted her path to head toward the pair and stopped just a short distance in front of them.

"Trista Rolffe?" the man asked when she paused. She nodded, slightly taken aback at having her name so readily known. Suspicion immediately took hold until the man introduced himself and the girl next to him, saying, "I'm Adam Hauptman. This is my daughter, Jesse. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Nice to meet both of you," Trista replied, a shy smile crossing her face. She sighed softly, relieved to have found her ride – and her hosts, at least for a short time.

"Can we go now?" the girl – Jesse, Trista's mind supplied – asked, bouncing from foot to foot. Her shoulder-length hair – a pretty, average brown interspersed with hot pink highlights – bounced along with her. She cast Trista a wide grin, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. "I wanna show Trista her room. And get to know her. And besides, I'm sure she's tired after such a long trip."

"Sounds good to me," Adam said, chuckling at his daughter's enthusiasm. "Can I help you with your bags?" he offered, reaching out a hand to take one of the suitcases from Trista's grasp. She considered for a moment before nodding, pulling the smaller of the two bags around and offering the handle to the man.

"Thank you," she murmured. Adam simply nodded, turning and leading the way from the baggage claim. Trista followed behind, Jesse at her side chattering away a mile minute. Most of what she said went unnoticed by Trista, who was wondering at what she had gotten herself into.

Never had she imaged, when she decided to attend the University of Washington, that her father would insist on putting her in touch with the local alpha. True, she hadn't been a werewolf at the time, but still the arrangements had been made. Then, to her surprise, came the invitation to stay with said alpha and his daughter, who just so happened to be about the same age as Trista.

The whole set-up seemed just a little too convenient to Trista, and she couldn't help but wonder just how much of the invitation was her father's wheedling and begging. She had a hunch a certain amount of forethought had gone into the man's call to the local alpha, that his speech had been plotted out just-so, so as to garner an invitation for Trista, his youngest. The arrangement had only become more beneficial in the intervening time,during which Trista herself had become a werewolf.

_As if I didn't have enough to worry about, what with going away to college and all_, she groused mentally. _Now I have to learn to play by a whole new set of rules, learn _another_ set of new skills, and keep from losing it and killing anyone. Oh, and not to mention the whole studying thing. _She sighed at the negative turn her thoughts had taken. It had been some time since she had felt as depressed about her new role in life as she felt right now and she couldn't help but wonder why.

"Trista?" a voice to her right asked. She turned toward the sound, blushing slightly when she found Jesse staring quizzically at her. "Are you alright? You seem really quiet?" The pink-haired girl looked at her with worry, happy smile gone from her face. Trista considered for a moment before nodding.

"I'm fine," she replied, offering a small, hesitant smile. "Just... a little overwhelmed, I guess. I've never been so far from home."

"I know what you mean," Jesse said. "It's always a bit of a culture shock when I come back here after being at Mom's. There's just something... different about it. Peaceful, I think. You'll get used to it soon enough." She gave the other girl a bright smile, concern gone from her face now that she had assigned a reason to Trista's quiet demeanor.

Trista simply nodded at the girl's explanation. That must be it, she thought. Culture shock, or whatever you wanted to call it. She would get over it and be back to her old self before long.

"So," Jesse started as they climbed into car, Trista's bags stashed safely in the trunk. There was a mischievous glint in her eye as she continued, "You got a boyfriend back home?"

Trista choked at the question, completely unprepared for such a query. Flushing a bright red she managed to stammer out a quick "no" before turning her attention out the window. She watched the scenery go by with interest, mentally noting the differences and similarities between her new home and her home back in Joplin.

It was not long before they were pulling in at their destination. Trista peered cautiously out her window at the large house before her, remaining seated even when the vehicle's other two occupants had exited. Only after a thorough study of the house did she climb slowly from the car, eyes never leaving the house before her.

It was huge, far larger than her family's house back home. She couldn't help but wonder what the pair behind her did with all the space – after all, it was just the two of them. Then it dawned on her that it was the house of an alpha, and was likely to house more than said alpha's family at any given time. That thought still running through her mind she went around the back of the car to help collect her things.

"Lemme show you to your room!" Jesse exclaimed as soon as Trista had pulled the unclaimed bag from the trunk. She grabbed Trista's arm and verily dragged her up the front steps and into the house. Trista barely caught a low chuckle from the man behind her, following at a more leisurely pace. Apparently he was well-accustomed to his daughter's bursts of energy and enthusiasm.

Trista followed the bouncing brunette into the house and up the stairs. Once there, she was shown to the second door on the right. Peering cautiously around the door, Trista took in the room. It was an average sized room and well-furnished. A full-sized bed took up the center of the room, and the walls were lined with a bookshelf, dresser and desk. Trista nodded in approval, stepping around Jesse and into the room. She cast a smile over her shoulder, showing her approval and thanks in the expression.

"Thank you," she said. "It's perfect." She pulled her bag in behind her, moving to set it against a portion of unoccupied wall. Adam arrived moments later with her other bag and set it down next to the first.

"Ready for bed?" he asked after a quick glance at his watch. Trista looked down at her own, surprised to see it was already nearly midnight.

"I think so," she said, headed toward her bags to find things to get ready for bed. "Thank you for coming to pick me up. And the room. I really appreciate it."

"Not a problem," he replied. "John is an old friend, the least I can do is look after his daughter for a bit." That said he left the two girls to their own devices.

It didn't take long for Trista to locate her toiletries bag and a pair of pajamas. After Jesse showed her where the bathroom was, she quickly got ready and climbed into bed. The sheets were soft and atop the bed was the perfect weight for the late summer weather. Trista snuggled down comfortably under the weight of the covers and sighed happily.

She fell asleep surprisingly quickly that night.

Well, what's the verdict? This is my first ever attempt at a fanfic in this series, and my first _true_ attempt at fanfiction period. Feedback would be much appreciated!

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

A huge thank you to my lovely reviewers! You guys made getting this chapter out quickly much easier.

I promise the next chapter will have a bit more action (and perhaps even a few answers) but I had to cut this one off or it would have ended up far too long. Besides, I'd rather write shorter chapters and update more frequently than leave people waiting for long behemoths of chapters.

Enjoy, and please do let me know what you think!

Trista awoke early the next morning. The sun was shining brightly through the window, landing squarely in her eyes. Even when she rolled over to try and go back to sleep she found herself unable. The sun had done its job in waking her, and now that wakefulness had found her it was not going to leave.

Heaving a resigned sigh she threw the covers back and climbed out of bed. As soon as her feet hit the floor she turned around and made the bed, hoping to remove the invitation the open covers seemed to pose. Once that was done she turned to her suitcase, pulling clothes from within and tossing them onto the bed behind her. She continued to dig a bit further and emerged victoriously a moment later with her bag of toiletries. She tossed the bag to land atop her pile of clothes then zipped up her suitcase.

Turning around once more she surveyed the pile of clothes she had accumulated. After a moment's study she decided to ignore the clothes for the moment and dropped to the floor, starting in on some stretches. While she normally saved her stretches for after her morning run, she had yet to figure out a route for her morning route, leaving her short part of her morning routine.

Once sufficiently limber she rose from the floor and turned back to her clothes. She had nearly pulled her sleep top off before realizing the blinds were wide open, leaving her in plain sight of anyone who might be watching. She verily dove for the cord, yanking it downward to close the blinds. They fell with a clatter and she winced, hoping she hadn't woken anyone else in the house. After a moment's pause revealed no further movement in the house she assumed the noise had gone unnoticed and proceeded to get dressed.

Once dressed, however, she found herself unsure what to do next. At home she had a morning routine, but here she had no idea what such a routine might contain. Not wanting to disturb anyone she pulled the book she had been reading from within her carry-on bag and settled back atop the bed to read.

After nearly an hour of reading the sounds of someone else up and about in the house finally reached her ears. Trista set down her book and listened more carefully, wondering as she did so who was up and for how long they had been moving about. She was notorious for getting so caught up in her reading that she became unaware of her surroundings, and it seemed today was another one of those times. No doubt her father, were he there, would have scolded her for her inattention.

Sighing at the unbidden thought of her father, as well as her own inattention, Trista rose from her seat atop her bed and walked cautiously to the door. She opened it just enough to stick her head out into the hallway and look up and down its length. When she saw no one there she debated a moment before slipping cautiously out of her room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind herself.

She padded softly down the hall, trying to keep her footsteps as quiet as she could. Even if her attempts at stealth would do her little good if there were werewolves around she still found herself moving quietly. After all, the werewolves weren't the only ones around to be hearing her footsteps.

She crept quietly down the stairs, sighing in relief when she reached the bottom without coming across the one squeaky stair that every staircase seemed to have. Once at the bottom of the stairs she paused to look around. Seeing no one in her immediate vicinity she sniffed gently at the air, searching out the source of the noises she had heard from her room. The strong smell of coffee reached her nose and she turned toward the scent, following it more confidently when she heard quiet voices coming from the same direction.

Moments later she found herself walking into the kitchen. She quickly tried to backpedal and put herself out of sight, to allow herself a moment to assess the situation, but the woman seated at the table had already seen her. She cast a friendly smile in Trista's direction causing Adam – who's back had been toward her entrance – to turn, looking over his should to see who was there.

It was a needless action, in Trista's mind, as he could have just as easily have scented her – and probably had. However, she herself was still given to the more human actions, such as relying more on her eyes than her ears and nose, so the action was understandable. The action, if it did nothing else, made the welcoming words he leveled her way sound all the more true.

"Ah, Trista. Good morning! Did you sleep well?" He offered a smile before gesturing for her to come closer. She did, hesitantly, coming to a stop at the end of the table. It was a strategic vantage point, one that allowed her to keep both adults in her sights at all times. That, at least, put her mind at ease a bit.

"Yes, fine," she replied, offering a shy smile in return. "Thank you." Her eyes flickered uneasily between Adam and the woman seated across from him. Adam seemed to notice her unease, as he immediately introduced the woman.

"Mercy, this is Trista, the girl I was just telling you about. Trista, this is Mercy my, uh, mate." He sounded uncomfortable with the term and Trista looked toward the woman to see how she would take the announcement. She looked far more settled with the term than her mate, a smug smile forming on her lips at Adam's discomfort.

"Hasn't it been long enough yet?" Mercy asked teasingly. 'You'd think you'd have gotten over it by now."

Trista was able to stifle a giggle at the woman's comment, but less able to do so when she looked at Adam, who looked slightly pouty from the airy rebuke. She immediately dropped her eyes when he looked toward the sound, face flushing red at having been caught. A quick laugh and a friendly pat on her shoulder as he rose form his chair assured her that her laughter was alright.

"Would you like anything to eat?" he asked, carrying an empty coffee mug to the sink. "There's several kinds of cereal, or I could make some eggs?" Trista shook her head at the offer. She had never been much of a breakfast person, and the nervousness she was currently feeling made eating the farthest thing from her mind at the moment.

"No thank you," she said softly. Then, idea popping into her mind, she asked, "I was actually wondering if there was a good place around here to go for a run. It's kind of a morning ritual for me, even before breakfast." She glanced up briefly to see how her admission would be taken, only to find that no one was paying particular attention to her. She heaved a sigh of relief at the realization that no one was watching her every move – at least, not at the moment – and quickly trained her gaze back on the floor.

"Just about anywhere around here is good," replied Mercy. "There's plenty road, most of it quiet, or there's the fields and riverbanks if that's more your style." Trista glanced up to find the woman smiling kindly at her. She offered a short smile in return before returning her gaze to the floor.

"Thanks," she murmured. "I think I'll go change and go for a run. If that's alright, that is?" At Adam's nod she nearly dashed back up the stairs and into her room, closing the door behind herself quickly and quietly. That done she leaned back against the door, breathing heavily.

_I hate meeting new people_, she thought. _Worse yet, I hate meeting new people in strange places._ Continuing to vent inwardly about her dislike of being with strangers she changed quickly into a pair of workout pants and a t-shirt. Socks and a pair of well-worn sneakers completed the look, and soon she was out the door.

For a long time she had carried music with her on her runs. Since her change, however, she had found the music to be far too distracting to be worthwhile. It unsettled the wolf in her, being unable to hear every sound clearly, and she had come to the compromise that she would leave the music at home if the wolf would leave Trista in charge. So far the agreement seemed to be working.

She ran along the road until the smell of the river piqued her interest. It took only the briefest of searches to locate the river and soon she was running along the riverbank, careful to maintain a safe distance from the water. It would not do to fall into a river and drown on her first day in a new state. Trying to ignore her more morbid thoughts and clear her mind she continued on her way, feet pounding rhythmically against the ground.

"She skittish," observed Mercy once the girl was safely out of the house. "At first I thought she was just shy, but the more I watched, the more I thought it was more than that. What's her story?"

Adam, cleaning up the kitchen after the pair's breakfast, sighed heavily. He himself was a bit sketchy on the details as far as Trista went. Honestly, he wasn't sure anyone other than the girl herself knew the full story.

"I don't know much," he finally said. Hanging the dishtowel back on its spot on the rack he moved to sit across from Mercy again before continuing. "I know her father is the alpha of a pack over near Joplin, and I know that Trista was turned without her consent about two months ago. Beyond that, I'm not sure myself and, seeing as she just got in last night, I haven't pressed for any details."

He was about to say more when Jesse bounded into the kitchen, brightly colored hair flying about her face. She glanced about the kitchen quickly before asking, "Where's Trista? She wasn't in her room when I stopped by to grab her for breakfast." A hint of worry tinged her voice, as if she was concerned the other girl had slipped out the window and run away during the night.

"Out for a run," her father replied, gesturing in the general direction he had seen the other girl head. Jesse nodded her understanding before digging through the pantry for some cereal. It took her only a few moments to put together a satisfactory bowl, at which point she joined Adam and Mercy at the table.

"So, what are our plans for today?" Jesse asked between bites of cereal.

"Well, we need food,for one thing," Mercy replied. "There's nothing to eat in this house but eggs and cereal. Which," she continued when Adam looked like he was about to object, "is fine for breakfast. Not so much for the rest of the day, though."

"So food, which means grocery shopping." Jesse made a face at her conclusion. She usually opted to stay home from such trips and was going to do so again when an idea hit her. "Maybe Trista would like to go! That way we can make sure we get stuff she likes." She grinned at the idea, smile widening when she saw Mercy nodding in agreement.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," the older woman agreed.

Nearly an hour later Trista walked through the door. She was sweaty and some of her hair had come loose from her ponytail but she was at peace. She paused just inside the doorway, trying to pinpoint the location of the house's occupants in one way or another. She could hear Jesse upstairs in her room and could faintly scent Adam and Mercy on the back porch. No other sounds or scents greeted her so she made her way toward the stairs, intent on a shower.

Gathering her previously-selected outfit and bag of toiletries from within her room she walked down the hall to Jesse's room. When her soft tap on the door was greeted by a "yeah" in response she opened the door, poking her head through the newly-created space.

"Mind if I borrow your shower?" she asked quietly. "I'm kinda... sweaty. From my run."

"Sure, right this way!" Jesse replied, hopping off her bed. She led the way to the bathroom, grabbing a towel form the linen closet on her way by. Once she was sure Trista had everything she needed she bid the girl a good shower and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

She kept the shower brief, moving as quickly as she could through her routine. The warm water felt good on sore muscles, tight from the tension she'd been feeling, but she refused to linger. Once out she dried quickly, then wrapped the towel about her dark hair, twisting it to set atop her head. That done she quickly redressed, then grabbed her things and headed back to her room.

Once there she replaced her things within her suitcase. She pulled a brush from within another small bag within the suitcase and started on the tangled mess her hair had become, working patiently to smooth out the knots that had settled into residence during her brief shower – she had never understood why water seemed to tangle her hair so.

She had just finished brushing the last tangles from her hair and was twisting it into a french braid when a knock came at the door. "Come in," she called, fingers too tied up in her hair to go open the door herself. The door popped open to reveal Mercy, purse in hand.

"Jesse and I were just about to go to the grocery store," she said. "I thought you might like to come along. Y'know, see a bit more of the area, help pick out some food you like. What do you think?"

Trista considered for a moment before nodding. It sounded like a good idea to her. Tying off her braid she threw her brush back in her suitcase and grabbed her purse from within her carry-on.

"Let's go," she said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Mercy, Adam, and other associated characters belong to Patricia Briggs (i.e. if you recognize them, they're not mine). Trista is my own creation.

**Author Note: **Another huge thank you to my reviewers! Thank you so much for taking the time to review – we authors love our feedback, even if it's only "keep going"!

**Chapter Three**

The ride to the grocery store was short and far from quiet. Jesse and Mercy bantered back and forth while Trista stared out the window, taking in as much of her new surroundings as was possible. Once or twice one of the other females in the car tried to engage her in conversation but her awkward, slightly distracted, replies kept her out of any serious conversation. So she spent most of her time with her eyes focused out the window and her ears focused on the conversation within the vehicle.

When they arrived at the local store, Trista looked about in interest, sniffing the air. She continued her intense assessment all the way across the parking lot and through the front doors, much to the amusement of her companions. They collected a cart just inside the doors and were on their way, Trista still looking about in amazement.

It was a grocery store, a store that sold food and simply food. Everything about the place was a far cry from the giant, sell-everything chain store she was used to shopping at back home. There she was constantly surrounded by people, with all their noxious chemical scents and loud voices. There, the store smelled of chemicals, concrete, and plastic, along with any number of other unpalatable scents. It seemed to Trista the last place one would want to buy food.

Here, though, things smelled fresh. They walked in amongst the produce and she took a deep breath, nose finding odors she had never scented before. She looked around at the colors and saw foods she had never known existed. An entire row was devoted to apples, categorized to hold a half-dozen varieties she had never heard of. She dazedly picked up a pair, bringing each to her nose in turn, and sniffed delicately. Yes, they were definitely different.

Only a muffled snort of laughter stopped her from picking up the next apple in line and continuing the process. She turned around to find Mercy and Jesse behind her, the latter with her mouth covered to prevent the escape of more giggles. Mercy had an amused smile on her face, eyes flickering from one girl to the other.

"Sorry, Trista," Jesse said between muffled giggles. "It's just... you look like you've never seen an apple before."

"I have," Trista replied with an indignant huff. "I just never knew there were so many kinds, that's all." She turned around to replace the apples she held back where they belonged, face flushing a light pink as she did so. _Leave it to me to embarrass mys elf on the first aisle,_ she thought bitterly. Fixing a smile on her face she turned around to face her companions.

The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. The majority of the trip was spent selecting produce – they managed to find several things the girl had never tried before – with the rest of the time spread relatively evenly across the rest of the market. Trista gawked at regular intervals, taking in her surroundings in wonderment, but thankfully avoided embarrassing herself further.

When they finally finished their shopping – a large filet of salmon in the cart for dinner later that night – the trio headed back out to the car. Trista helped load the bags into the trunk then climbed into the back seat. Once settled at her previous post she once more took to staring out the window, enjoying the scenery. She still couldn't get over the difference between the Northwest and her home back in Missouri.

_This is home now, though,_ she reminded herself. _ You made that decision when you decided to come up here to go to school. _This _is home._ She bit back a bitter laugh and stared blankly out the window until they returned to the house.

Unloading the groceries proved to be a bit interesting. Trista tried to help but, not knowing where anything went, found herself in the way more often than not. After successfully finding places in the refrigerator for the night's meal and several pieces of produce she stepped back to watch. Mentally cataloging where each type of food went she promised herself she would help out more after the next trip. If nothing else, she would prove to be a well-mannered house guest.

Once she was certain there was nothing more she could do to help she retreated to her room. Standing in the doorway she looked across the room for a long moment, debating what to do. She briefly considered unpacking her suitcases, but decided against it. She didn't want to become too comfortable in her temporary home, to unpack everything only to have to repack it to move into her dorm come the beginning of the school year. That idea squashed she turned to the book she had left on the nightstand. The thought of reading was quickly tossed aside when she realized she was nearing the end of the last book she had. She wondered briefly why she hadn't had the foresight to stock up on reading material before leaving Missouri.

Out of ideas she flopped down atop the neatly-made bed. Stretched out as she was it was hard to ignore the nagging feeling of sleepiness that had been creeping up on her since she had climbed out of bed. She had not slept well for the last several nights and she could feel the lack of sleep catching up with her. Closing her eyes, she resolved to take a short nap – just a catnap, she promised herself – and quickly fell asleep.

_The merry sound of a campfire crackled merrily in the background. Light flickered from the flames, causing shadows to dance about the edges of the campsite. Trista sat on a log near the warmth of the fire, stick in hand positioned just-so to hold a marshmallow over an area of glowing embers. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the sweet treat to roast, but the action did nothing to hurry along the cooking process._

_From across the fire came a deep laugh and Trista looked up from her task. Her father sat across the fire from her, amusement clear in his eyes even in the low light of the campfire. Trista quirked an eyebrow at him before turning her eyes back to her marshmallow, cheering when she noticed it was toasted to a nice golden brown. She quickly pulled the dessert from over the coals and, not even waiting for it to cool, popped it into her mouth._

_"Ouch!" she exclaimed as soon as the treat entered her mouth. "That's hot!" The words were muffled around her mouthful, but somehow her father still managed to understand her._

_"That's what you get for not giving it time to cool," he said, still laughing. "If you had given it even the slightest moment you wouldn't be burning your mouth right now." Trista cast him a dark look, trying to convey with her expression that she felt betrayed, like the man had sided with the marshmallow rather than his daughter. The look only made her father laugh harder._

_"Not as good cold," she muttered. Swallowing, she added, "They taste best right out of the fire. If you wait you lose that gooiness. Besides, the sooner I eat one the sooner I can start on the next." Suiting action to words she grabbed another marshmallow from the bag sitting next to her on the log and skewered it on the end of her stick. Then she adjusted the stick once more over the embers and waited for her next treat to cook._

_The sudden rustling of branches behind her startled Trista and she jumped. Looking cautiously over her shoulder she searched the shadows for the source of the sound. When nothing became immediately apparent she shrugged it off and turned back to the fire. A quick glance at her father assured her that nothing was wrong - the man had barely even acknowledged the sound - so she turned her attention back to her marshmallow._

_The stick had drooped slightly during her inattention and her marshmallow was now resting atop the embers she had been using to cook it. Even as she tried to jerk it back to safety the marshmallow on the end burst into flame. Trista groaned, a deep frown appearing on her face at her ruined dessert. _

_"Why me?" she moaned melodramatically. Pulling the still-flaming dessert from the fire she blew on it to extinguish the flame. Once that was done she pushed the now-ruined treat off the end of the stick into the fire. The flames leaped eagerly to meet the new fuel and she watched in interest as the marshmallow was quickly devoured. Once it had completely disappeared she reached over and grabbed another marshmallow, skewering it and starting anew. _

_This time she paid closer attention to what she was doing, even when the noise came again from behind her. She focused her attention solely on the fire, studiously ignoring the sounds that grew louder and closer from the forest behind her. Her father, still seated across the fire, grew more and more tense as the sounds grew closer but Trista was too focused on her current task to pay him any attention. _

_Only when a large figure burst from the underbrush did she look up from her task. To her right stood a large creature, head low and deep growl rumbling in its throat. Trista studied the creature in the low light for a long moment before realization dawned on her: it was one of her father's wolves. She glanced across the fire at her father, only to find that he was no longer in his seat. Dessert forgotten, she dropped marshmallow - stick and all - into the fire._

_Feeling panic rising in her chest she jumped up from her seat. Her eyes cast desperately about the small clearing in search of her father and finally found the man standing just behind her. She wondered for a brief moment how he had managed to move behind her without her noticing, but then all thought disappeared as the wolf leaped forward._

_For a moment all she could see was fang, claws, and fur. Then her father was in front of her and she was shoved roughly to the side. Stumbling, she nearly regained her balance before she hit the log she had been sitting on and fell. Her hands stung where she had stuck them out to break her fall but she quickly shoved the discomfort from her mind. Shoving herself back to her feet she looked back toward the fire. She felt the breath catch in her throat when she noticed the wolf on top of her father, teeth bared and poised to take a final strike at the man's throat._

_"No!" she screamed, voice hoarse in desperation. She leaped toward the wolf, shoving with all her might in hopes of dislodging the creature. The action didn't budge the wolf, but it did draw the creature's attention. It turned glowing amber eyes toward her and she gasped. There was no human intelligence behind those eyes, the wolf was completely in control. She vaguely recognized that her father was yelling at her to get away but she was too transfixed by those eyes to listen to what he was saying. Instead she stood rooted to the spot, staring into the eyes of the wolf._

_Only when some part of her mind managed to reach through her shock and scream at her that she was challenging the wolf did she look away. The action came too late, though, as the growl redoubled. The wolf stepped carefully over its previous prey and stalked toward Trista, new prey firmly in its sights. She stumbled backward, away from the gaping jaws, and thought that she was in the clear until she fell once more over her previous seat._

_The wolf took its time stepping toward her, and Trista wondered for a moment if perhaps the human half of the wolf hadn't retained some semblance of control. Then those jaws closed around her leg and all reason left her mind. She screamed, in pain and in fear, and tried to back away. When the wolf refused to relent she screamed louder, hoping, perhaps, to scare the creature off._

_Her plan worked, to some extent, as the wolf released her to look curiously at her face. She thought she saw a flash of human intelligence in those eyes, perhaps even the briefest hint of sympathy. Then those jaws were about her again, sinking into the vulnerable flesh of her stomach. She shoved ineffectively at the beast's head, hoping to dislodge it, but to no avail. As the wolf continued to gnaw on her abdomen she felt herself drifting away. Blackness closed in around the edges of her vision as she started to black out. Even as she fought against it, fearing it would be the end of her, she welcomed the darkness. The darkness could only bring with it peace and relief. Fighting for one last glance at the world around her – just in case it really was her last look – she let the darkness take over._

Trista woke with a start, sitting upright in bed as she gasped for breath. One arm clutched reflexively about her stomach, feeling about for the injuries she knew must be there. She could still feel the teeth tearing into her, could feel the pain from the fangs shredding tender flesh. She shuddered at the memory and reached up to brush a sweat-soaked lock of hair from in front of her eyes.

_How did a short nap turn into a terror-fest?_ she wondered as her breathing slowed back to a more normal rate. Still clutching her stomach she rose from the bed. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicions that the covers were a mess and she took a moment to straighten them. She took her time, slowly smoothing each wrinkle from the comforter, in hope that focusing her mind on something else would help erase the last vestiges of her nightmare.

It didn't, and the knock that came at her door – Jesse, calling her for dinner – only further heightened her nerves. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she headed down the stairs to dinner.


End file.
